


The Stand-off

by FriesAndRobots



Series: Hannibal writing dump [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Conflicted Will Graham, Gen, Guns, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Love/Hate, M/M, Mild Blood, Someone Help Will Graham, Touch-Starved Will Graham, Will Graham is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriesAndRobots/pseuds/FriesAndRobots
Summary: Taking place between S2 and S3, Hannibal and Will are not sure what to do with themselves and each other. They stand at a crossroads, and they both want to go different ways.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Hannibal writing dump [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974397
Kudos: 21





	The Stand-off

**BANG**

The offensive sound of expensive glass hitting the floor of the dining room. A tut of disappointment soon followed.

“For somebody so highly respected in the FBI, I’d have thought you had a steady hand while bearing arms.” Maroon eyes landed directly on ocean blue ones. He knew what he was doing. “Are you letting me get away? Are you making sure I slip out of your clumsy hands just one more time?”

Silence replied. No matter.

“How... interesting.” A cheeky smirk allowed itself to creep along the articulate mouth of the wanted man. His cunning counterpart never ceased to surprise him, and he adored it.

But said counterpart had teeth. Vicious teeth that he had acquired from his mentor and therapist, who was the target currently standing in front of him. At this thought, the cannibal smiled hubristically for a split second. He needn’t let pride swallow him just yet, though. 

Love’s hate behind a white veil, and Will Graham was the bride. Still, he dared to try and confront his beloved in such a dominant way. Although it was an easily transparent mask of confidence, it would not do.

Rudeness was akin to toxin in Lecter’s intelligent mind, spoiling the comfortable haven he had built there. Despite this, a certain type of impertinence he simply could not live without — an attitude so offhanded that had it come from any other mouth, blood would have been spilled.

Blood had still spattered between the criminal profiler and the cannibal in events that were now simply eroded memories, but this particular time was not in hate. Hateful blood was bitter, black and ever so ugly. No, the liquid oozing from both men now was crimson and warm. It was... oddly comforting.

It seemed an eternity of silence had encapsulated them, until Graham’s blurry yet frustrated voice entered the air. The noise weaved its way to Hannibal’s ears, and he didn’t need to understand what he may have said to answer.

His calculating gaze travelled to the pistol in the other man’s sweating, shaky hands.

“If you have to fantasise about ending me even when I am standing right here, a lick of worry evidently still tugs at you. You do not fully desire my demise.”

A small, vulnerable hum in response proved Lecter’s statement correct. He offered him the softest smile, which seemed to affect the FBI agent as the clunk of a gun hitting the ground shamelessly echoed through the room.

Hannibal’s footsteps seemed like the loudest sound in the world in this moment. Approaching the brunet, the violent tenseness in the air had died down exceptionally quickly; to be replaced with a calming, almost loving atmosphere.

The closer the cannibal got, the more noticeable the need was for physical contact. Whether it would simply be a kind request for assistance in tending to injuries or something more, he was sure they’d both be grateful for their shared desire for touch.

At last, a soft yet powerfully masculine hand slowly reached up to caress and brush against rough stubble, the scratchy sensation on his palm a warming reminder that their deeply personal chain of events could have been so much more evil and sinister. They could have ended up in a much, much worse situation than this.

Thankfully, Will did not flinch at the man’s touch. On the contrary — his now calmed cerulean eyes closed as he gently pressed his cheek into his palm. It was a jarring and sudden change in mood for both of them, but it was welcomed with open arms. They needed it.


End file.
